But he acted throughout by means of agents. Ostensibly he was living the simple life, and posing as an injured and misunderstood monarch. The fierce winds of controversy in Sofia in which he was made a target by all the controversialists did not blow upon him. He could see the storm-clouds thickening in the Balkans, and spent more and more time on his throne seat on the seashore, looking out to Constantinople. And while he was living the simple home life at Euxinograd, the storm at Sofia actually did blow itself out; and the great European storm burst and carried away all the fastenings of civilization. But first it will be amusing and instructive to take a peep at him as the simple farmer and flower-lover, living the family life far away from the cares of State and the troubles which afflict a monarch who means to be crowned in the cathedral of St. Sophia at Constantinople. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ FERDINAND IN RETIREMENT “_His disappearances correspond to the most secret depths of his soul._”—ALEXANDRE HEPP. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XXII FERDINAND IN RETIREMENT Once, in the days when Ferdinand was a sub-lieutenant of Austrian hussars, the Emperor Franz Joseph stood talking to Kossuth, the Hungarian statesman, at the window of the palace. As they talked Ferdinand chanced to pass through the courtyard below, and the Emperor asked the Hungarian his opinion of the young prince. “That boy, sire,” said Kossuth, “has a long nose, but it will not be you who will pull it.” The prophecy may or may not prove an accurate one, but the personal observation was inevitable. No one can possibly look at Ferdinand without being struck by the size and prominence of his nose. “Too copious for one man,” it has been pronounced, and in the modern gallery of kings there is certainly no nose like it. For the rest, the Prince Ferdinand who first affronted the eyes of the rough Bulgarians was an exquisite, with artificially waved and golden locks, white hands with long slim fingers, a small waist confined by obvious corsets, and cold blue eyes that sparkled with self-esteem. A quarter of a century has not served to modify the dominance of his all-pervading nose, though it has altered the rest of the man in no small degree. The long fair moustache and the delicately tended imperial have given way to a thick crop of grey hair, and a carefully trimmed and pointed beard. His pinched figure has expanded into a burly stoutness, his fine hands have gone plump and coarse; he is no longer the “Prince Charming” of the adventure of 1887; although he still preserves his personal vanity—for not long ago he had a journalist sent to gaol for nothing more than making some rude remarks about the length of his nose. The Ferdinand we are now to see surrounded by his home influences is a man who affects the manner of a bluff country gentleman.